


With You in Mind

by KuriDoodleDoo



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Almost-Sex, Drunken Kissing, M/M, Underage Drinking, this gets pretty damn gay if you ask me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-21 10:59:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9545438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuriDoodleDoo/pseuds/KuriDoodleDoo
Summary: Yuri's grandfather has passed away. Despite dedicating his skating show to him, Yuri just cannot get his mind off of the death. Otabek comes along, saving Yuri from what was almost a beauty-costing fall. Yuri slowly comes to realize that this was the person that his grandpa had always told him would come one day.





	1. I Promise.

****

“At age 19, representing Russia, skating to Tchaikovsky's Violin Concerto, Yuri Plisetsky.” The stands became silent. Yuri moved into position, delicate hands covering his face, eyes closed, face set in a soft frown. Even with the song shortened, he would tell this story through to the end with his body and soul. “It is said that he had picked this song shortly after his grandfather's tragic death.”

_ Shut up, you stupid fucking announcer. You know nothing of my grandfather. Nothing.  _ Yuri thought in spite as he went through his skating routine. Going into his first jump, he could feel his grandpa's hands lifting him into the air.

“ _ Higher papa!!” Yuri would yell on the swing, giggling and kicking his legs toward the trees ahead of his swing-set. _

“ _ Of course, my dear Yurochka, you'll touch the sky one day.” He pressed his rough old hands into Yuri's coat-covered back, pushing him on the swing to get him higher. _

He zoned out at some point during his performance apparently, nearing the end of his free skate program. He knows he landed all of his quads, he can just feel it. The last move in his program is combination spin, making him extremely nervous. The move wasn't hard whatsoever. Just the music. The music would pierce through his heart and break him down.

“ _ Yuri! My boy! How was school today?” _

“ _ Grampa, I made you a birthday card today!” He handed the small gluey card to his grandfather. _

“ _ Oh, Yurochka. This is absolutely beautiful. Thank you. You are blessing on this wretched earth. One day everyone will see. I love you.” Nikolai stopped, reaching down to pick up his young grandson and hug him tight. _

“ _ I love you too, Papa!! You're squishing me!!” _

With both hands in the air, back bent almost at a ninety degree angle, breathing hard, hot tears ran from his eyes at the very end, the song fading out. The screams and cheers were overwhelming and Yuri just slowly straightened, wanting so badly to run away. He stood there for a moment before quickly skating off the ice. He wanted to get the hell out of there as fast as possible. As he came closer to the exit, he realized he was going much too fast to get off safely. His eyes widened as he tried to stop himself, somewhat rolling his ankle and launching himself off the ice, his right hip catching on the corner of the low wall as his green eyes suddenly closed and he braced for impact. Shit.

Otabek Altin was waiting to enter onto the ice, eyes just as wide as Yuri's had previously been when he saw what was about to unfold. He dove quickly, attempting to catch the blond along with the boy's coach, Yakov. He shoves his hand in front of that small feminine face, attempting to block it from the ground, which he does, just in time, the skin on his knuckles peeling up against the rough floor. Yakov catches Yuri's body, the three of them frozen there, a dead silence falling over them. The crowd follows suit, silence laying it's thick blanket over everyone who saw. Yuri shakes, slowly picking himself up and looking at Otabek.

“I-...get the hell out of my way!” He turns quickly, rushing to the kiss-and-cry. He sits down roughly, hands shaking hard.  _ What the fuck was that? Why did he catch me like that? _ He looked toward the man, noticing his hand was bloodied. His coach was wrapping it. Nothing serious. Now Yuri just felt like an ass. Yakov quickly came to sit with him, but ended up just standing there in anticipation. Yuri doesn't hear the score, he just suddenly feels a slap on his back and hears the loud laughter of Yakov.

“Well done, my boy! Truly exquisite job!” He just gets up and leaves the man to celebrate. This was one of his worst performance. The score was amazing. The memories? Absolutely horrible.

He removed his costume in the locker room, putting on his warm-up jacket and sweats. He looked himself over in the mirror, sighing softly. He lifted his jacket and lowered his pants just a bit, looking at his right hip. “Shit.” A deep blue bruise was forming over his pointy hip bone, the soft pale skin a little more than scraped up. He slowly sat down on the bench by the mirror after pulling his pants back up, shifting his jacket down a bit.

“ _ You are so smart. You have the best marks in school, the best I have ever seen in my life.” Nikolai smiled wildly, patting his grandson's head. _

“ _ Papa. I have a low mark in mathematics.” The young pre-teen boy was frowning, sitting at the kitchen table. “I suck at math.” _

“ _ No, Yuri, my dear boy. You just need practice. Practice makes you better, you are already perfect.” _

Yuri felt himself crying again, hands coming up over his face. His fragile fingers shook over his damp cheeks, his chest quaking with each sob. “Papa...please just come back...”

“ _ Yuri, promise you will do your best for me?” _

“ _ Papa, you can't leave yet, you can't leave me now! I need you at the exhibition! I need you at my show, Papa, please...you can't leave...” Yuri held onto his grandfather's hand, gripping tighter light it would ground him to his life for longer. _

“ _ Promise me, Yura...” Nikolai brought his grandson in close. “Shh...” _

“ _ I promise...I promise you...I will win gold at the Grand Prix Final, Grandpa. I will win with you in mind.” _

Yuri later found himself standing with a gold medal in front of two other men, both older than him. He grinned finally, holding up his medal with a victorious fist. He holds himself high and proud, the lump coming back to his throat, but not enough to make him cry once more. He looked among the audience, painting a faint image of his papa sitting in the stands, smiling down on him as he stood there.

He eventually looked down to the silver and bronze before skating back off the rink, much slower this time. As he stepped off the rink, he was hugged by Viktor and Yuuri of course, both of them fussing over him getting hurt earlier, and then stating how proud they are. Can't anyone see that he just wants space? He just wants space. He hugs to Yuuri anyways, laying his head against that soft chest. This was ok. This was good enough.

“I'm going back to my room.” He peels his head away from Yuuri's chest, looking to Viktor. “I'll walk myself this time. I don't need help, I'm not a kid.” If he was being honest, he just didn't want to cry in front of anyone today. He made his way to the door, stepping out and hugging his skates to his chest as he trudged back to the hotel. It wasn't far, and the weather wasn't as biting as it had been when he walked for practice. He held his gold medal tightly in his hand, looking down at it and tearing up. “I did it...I did my best, just like I promised.” He spoke softly, his voice broken.

_ Gold again. With you in mind, Grandfather, gold again. _


	2. New Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On his way to breakfast, Yuri meets up with the savior of his face. He is hostile at first, but later on accepts his fate of this guy following him to the cafe.
> 
> A lot of crying from Yuri, but everything will be okay in the end.

Yuri had slept in all of his clothes from the previous day, his face sticky and crusty from crying before bed. He put zero effort into tidying up, pushing all his hygiene routine until the morning. As he woke, his body screamed at him. He had slept through the night curled around some stuffed animals, his skates. An impression of the medal was pressed into his left cheek. His back ached from folding in on himself, his legs stiff. He peeled himself out of bed, rubbing his face as he stripped off his clothes. After a shower, he decided he would go to breakfast with Yuuri and Viktor. That's all he could mentally handle today. After that, he would hopefully go back to bed.

 

He showered, brushed and styled his hair with his bangs pulled back in a hair tie, and then walked around his room naked for awhile. Why put on clothes when he didn't need to? Exactly. He sat on his bed for a while, zoning out once more before finally heading over to his suitcase. He dug through his stuff, finding his favorite black jeans and the shirt he bought when he was in Japan.  _ Yeah. That would work for the day _ . He threw on a jacket over everything, looking around for clean socks and his leopard print shoes. He looked over himself in the mirror, smiling for his grandpa. 

“ _ Yurochka, I got you these.” His grandfather gently laid a shoe box in Yuri's lap. _

 

“ _ Wha...oh. Shoes? Papa, I have plenty of shoes, you shouldn't have.” He smiled, opening the box and gasping. “These are awesome! Thank you, Grampa..” He grinned, setting the box down before hugging his grandfather in the bed. _

 

“ _ I know it isn't your birthday yet, but I wanted to make sure you got what you wanted.” In other words, he didn't know for sure if he would make it to March 1 _ _ st _ _. Nikolai smiled, gently nodding against his grandson's shoulder. “Enjoy them. I love you.” _

 

Yuri snaps back to reality, realizing he had been staring at his feet through the mirror for probably about five minutes. Walking toward the door. He grabs his wallet, key card, and finally his sunglasses. 

 

The walk down the hallway seems to go on forever, mostly because he was walking so slow. He stops short when the door beside him opens, startling him just a bit. 

 

“Oh. Yuri?”  _ Who the hell? _

 

“Oh. It's you.” Otabek greeted him with a smile.

 

“Yeah...it's me. Are you okay? That was a pretty rough fall you took.”

 

“Mhm.” Yuri nods, then looks down at his royal fucked knuckles. “Sorry about your hand.” He points to it for emphasis. “You didn't need to catch me.”

 

“Well, yeah. I suppose you're right. But, I would rather a scrape like this be on my hand than ruin a face like yours.” He laughs awkwardly, his other hand reaching up to rub at the back of his neck. “Are you going to breakfast?”

 

“Yeah.” Yuri kinda looks down the hall as if the wall is more interesting than the conversation they are having right now.

 

“Mind if I come along? That's where I was headed too.” He closes his door behind him, forcing him to step out in the hall and closer to Yuri.

 

“That's fine, I guess.” Yuri starts walking again, kind of stuck on the comment Otabek made.

 

_ I would rather a scrape like this be on my hand than ruin a face like yours. _

 

_ Ruin a face like yours. _

 

_ A face like yours. _

 

What the fuck did that mean? He shakes his head, finding that he was sort of limping. His legs were just sore, and his hip was rubbing painfully against his jeans. Maybe he should have picked sweats or leggings.

 

“Congratulations on winning gold.”

 

“Thanks, you too.” Yuri stops walking, blinking at his own stupidity. “I mean.” Dammit. “Congratulations on..whatever the fuck you won.” He groans quietly and the unbelievable idiocy that just left his mouth. Really? Guess he can't go an entire day without embarrassing himself. He began walking again.

 

Otabek just chuckles quietly. “Thank you. I ended up getting silver.” He hums, swearing that Yuri had looked back at him at some point. But the boy also seemed quite distracted, maybe a little numb. “Your show was amazing. I couldn't take my eyes off of you.”

 

“Thanks.” Yuri stopped walking once more. “Why are you talking to me?”

 

“Wha-?”

 

“Why are you talking to me right now? If you're expecting me to thank you for saving my head from the floor, then just leave me alone. Because I'm not going to.” He huffs, crossing his arms and staring at Otabek with deep green eyes.

 

“Whoa. I just want to be friends, Yuri.”

 

“I don't have friends.”

 

“Do you think you could just have one?” The Kazakh man stepped back a bit, giving Yuri plenty of space in case he blew up.

 

“Fine!”  _ Wait _ . “I mean no! Now let's just go eat breakfast and get it the fuck over with!” He stomps down the hall, which he isn't very good at. He is way to graceful for that. Otabek just laughs and follows after the small Russian boy.

 

As they walk, Otabek takes the time to finally admire Yuri up close. He really is a beautiful boy. He hums, tilting his head as he realizes that 80% of Yuri Plisetsky's height comes from his long legs. Maybe that explains his incredible flexibility? Aside from legs, his blonde hair looked really nice, still damp from a shower, maybe? It must be a lot of fun to play with. Also, the way his jeans hugged at his hips and ass...

 

He was suddenly pulled from his thoughts by Yuri pushing the door open, and a gust of freezing cold air blowing his hair away from his face. He stops for a moment, but realizes that the door is being held for him and walks through. “Thanks.” He waits outside for Yuri to follow him. “Where are we headed...?”

 

“A small café. Viktor and Yuuri are waiting for me there. They probably won't mind a guest.” Yuri looked forward at Otabek, humming at his hair. He wonders if he could pull it off. While he didn’t mind his longer hair, he yearned for something different, something more becoming of the Ice Tiger of Russia. He looks Otabek over, humming and tilting his head. Yeah. The guy is pretty good looking.

 

Yuri knows he likes guys, and he doesn't really care. He has yet to find a suitable dude for dating, however. No one his grandfather would approve of. No one Nikolai would see as a  _ blessing to this wretched earth. _ Sometimes he would find himself looking at skaters, wondering what their real personalities were like. When he was 15, he wouldn't so much as glance at anyone, but now that he was 19, he wanted to start searching. Someone who loved skating as much as himself, someone who would make him smile, and someone who made him feel good about himself. He wanted the perfect someone. Not that he cared what they looked like, but having a hot boyfriend would just give him another reason to feel victorious. Someone he could show off for smarts, looks, and personality.

 

“Why were you skating so fast?”

 

Yuri has to stop and think for a moment before he finally understands. “When I fell?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“I don't know...” he pondered. Why was he going so fast? Why wasn't he paying attention? “The music overwhelmed me and I just wanted to leave.” Surprisingly honest. “Why do you care..?” Not-so-surprising question.

 

“I was worried last night. I couldn't really check on you and make sure you were okay after you left the ice.” This maked Yuri stop walking again and just stare at the back of Otabek's head.

 

“Check on me...” He starts to wonder why the hell this guy cares so much.

 

When the Kazakh turns around this time, he looked concerned. “I know we don't know each other well, but I care. I don't know if you have anyone in your life who cares for you, or who will just listen to you talk, but I will be that person if you want.”

 

“ _ I'll always care about how you feel, Yuri. If you are angry, sad, if you just want to scream, I will still listen to you. I will always be that person for you.” _

 

Yuri stares into Otabek's deep brown eyes, watching them grow wider. At first he's confused, but then he realizes that hot tears are coming down his soft pale cheeks. Great. Crying. Again.

 

“I didn't mean to make you cry-”

 

“You didn't.” Yuri wipes his face, sniffing up whatever snot was threatening to drip from his nose. “Let's just keep walking. The café is right there on the corner.”

 

“Alright.” Otabek daringly reaches over, rubbing Yuri's upper back. The hand is warm even through the sweater and thick shirt. He feels the younger man shaking, quickly looking over to see him silently sobbing. He walks a little bit faster, knowing that Viktor and Yuuri will be inside the café, hopefully they will know what to say. Once inside, he looks around for any sign of the silver and black haired heads. Finally spotting them, Viktor smiles, then immediately frowns.

 

“Oh, Yura. Come, sit sit.” He mumbles sweet words in Russian, pulling the boy down to sit with him. Otabek sits next to Yuuri, the two of them across from Viktor and Yuri.

 

“You don't mind if I eat with you guys, do ya?” Yuuri shakes his head, smiling a little sideways. “Thanks...”

 

Otabek hums, glancing around before leaning over and asking what Yuri likes, getting up to buy them both something to eat. He can't help but continue to look back at the three of them. He felt bad, wondering if he said something to trigger those tears. He just wanted to help. However, he would say he was surprised that the younger didn't shove him off and curse at him. Maybe that was a good sign? He makes his way back over, glad to see that Yuri isn't crying anymore. “Here. I got you this.” He sets it in front of him, a steaming pastry.

 

“Thanks.” He doesn't look up, just slowly starts eating.

 

Otabek watches for a moment before looking back up at the other two. Might as well introduce himself. “I'm Otabek Altin, I represent Kazakhstan.”

 

“Hello, Otabek. I'm Viktor Nikiforov. That's Yuuri Katsuki.”

 

Otabek nods. Sheesh, who wouldn't know who he is? Of course he is THE Viktor Nikiforov. He almost laughs.

 

“Yura, Yuuri and I are meeting with some sponsors, is it alright if we leave you two here alone?”

 

Yuri just nods, then shrugs. Good enough. The pair stood to leave, but not before showering Yuri with affection.

 

“Hah, they kind of seem like your parents, huh?” Otabek smiled, trying to cheer up his new friend. He gently tapped his foot under the table, wondering what he could do to jerk a smile out of Yuri. “Do you like dumb jokes?” When he sees Yuri shrug and look up, he grinned. “Alright. Well, what do you call cheese that's not yours?” He watches him think about it, and when he shrugs, he responds with, “Nacho cheese! Get it..?”

 

Yuri rolls his eyes and lets on a small smile. “That was the most stupid joke I have ever heard.”

 

“I know, I know, that's the point. Here's another one:  After many years, a prisoner is finally released. He runs around yelling, 'I'm free! I'm free!' A little kid walks up to him and says, 'So what? I'm 4.'” This time, Yuri laughs out loud, shaking his head. Yup. Otabek definitely likes that sound.

 

“ I changed my mind.  _ That _ was the most stupid joke.” He softly chuckled, nibbling the dead skin on his bottom lip.

 

“ Yeah, haha...so what are your plans for the rest of the day?” He wanted to hear that laughter some more if he could.

 

“ Oh. I was planning on just hanging out in my hotel room for the rest of the day.”

 

“ Alone?”

 

“ Yeah?” Yuri kind of mocks his tone, but notices that the other doesn't really care.

 

“ Mind if I hang out with you?” Otabek looks at him with his head tilted slightly and a smile on his face.

 

Yuri finishes his pastry, wiping his mouth with a napkin.  “ I suppose that would be fine.” 

 

An awkward silence hung around them like a thick blanket. “ Years ago, I was at that summer camp thing for skating..with Yakov. I don't know if you remember me.”

 

Yuri looks at him, narrowing his eyes.  _ Years ago...I haven't done that since I was...sheesh, he's known me for THAT long? How oblivious am I?? _ “Yeah?”

 

“ Yeah. What caught me off guard was your eyes. The color, the way they...you have the eyes of a soldier, Yuri.” Those eyes, they hold such beauty, they have Otabek wrapped around Yuri's little finger and he doesn't even know it yet. Yuri looks down, slightly embarrassed.

 

“ _ One day, a very special person will see a part of you that you think is boring, and they will think it is the greatest thing about you, Yurochka...” _

 

“ _ Whatever, Grandpa. That's silly.” _

 

“ There is nothing special about my eyes.” He stands, throwing away whatever trash they had on the table. He heads for the door, waiting there for Otabek. The Kazakh man follows, smiling at Yuri.

 

Yeah. They could be friends. This could work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Feel free to let me know of mistakes @puddle-party on tumblr, or drop by and give me some suggestions! Thank you <3


	3. Blessings and Janky Doors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The door is stuck, but Otabek is good with doors. Time for the fun to begin

Once Otabek and Yuri had arrived at the hotel room, Yuri took his wallet out, pulling the key card out and sliding it in the door slot. He grumbles when the dumb thing won't work, rubbing his face. Of all the rooms, he got the one that had a shitty door. He tried again, shaking his head and rolling his eyes.

 

“Mind if I try?” Otabek holds his hand out for the key, smiling when it is slapped into his hand. He slides it into the slot, the door unlocking instantly. How the fuck….that’s just not fair!

 

“What the fuck! I tried seven times yesterday before it actually opened!” He growls, entering his room before the green light goes back to red, starting to take his jacket off.

 

He offers to take Otabek's, looking over the leather material. Dang. It looked pretty good on him. When he takes it off, as well as his scarf, Yuri can finally look him over. Great. Kind _and_ hot? This was going to be a problem. What he liked the most, as of right now, was the hair. That style looked so good on Otabek only, the way his soft black locks seemed to fall perfectly in some places and hold firm in others. It was gorgeous, to die for _._ _A blessing on this wretched earth._ He found himself stepping closer to his new friend, stopping himself before moving another foot. No. He is not getting any closer than this. Not by his own free will.

 

He opens his mouth, hoping to say something intelligent, but the only thing that comes out is, “I like your hair.” Which in turn makes him feel dumb

 

“And I, yours.” He smiles a little sideways. “Did you grow it yourself?” He sticks his tongue out teasingly and that's when Yuri sees it. His eyes grow wide, his mouth falls open, and he feels his stomach grow warm with excitement.

 

The tongue piercing. The little metal ball sitting in the middle of soft, dark pink muscle. Oh Lord, save him now. He just stands there, weak at the knees, until it is pulled back into the mouth of the owner. He holds his breath for a little longer than probably healthy, making his face read and his heart beat faster, his lungs aching for a deep breath.

 

“What..? Something on my face..?” Otabek self consciously wipes at his mouth. “Huh? What are you...oh. My tongue?” He grins that sideways grin, just one corner of his mouth coming up. “Do you like that?” He watches Yuri's head bob just once. “Yeah. It hurt pretty bad when I got it, but it was totally worth it. It looks pretty bad-ass, huh?”

 

Yuri nods once more, wishing for something to lean on. If there was one thing that was sure to get him on his back, it was piercings. Not just any piercings, such as the ears or something, but the ones on the nose, lips, and  _ especially the tongue.  _ Something about the metal, maybe. Something about the risk taken. Something about the way they would feel against- well. You know.

 

“It looks good on you...” Yuri mumbles softly, finally glancing away. He. Is. Sold.

 

“Thanks, haha...so, uh, how about that movie?” He steps a little closer to Yuri, only to pass him and head to the TV. “I brought some with me from home, actually, if you don't have any here.” He turns, laughing when he sees Yuri slowly turning around. “I'll go get them and give you some time to recover.”

 

Once he is gone, Yuri finds himself covering his face and groaning slow and low. How embarrassing. To be caught by this cute guy, totally fawning over a piercing in his mouth? Sheesh. What kind of loser was he? This was totally unlike him. He should've had an insult ready, or maybe a sarcastic compliment? Something to say about him being a little bitch for thinking it hurt? What the hell was going on? He shakes his head to stop thinking about it, realizing that this guy was pretty good at making him forget he was sad.

 

“ _ One day, Yurochka, you find a friend who will make you laugh away the tears. When I am gone, there will be someone new, someone by your side to hold your hand and love you as I do.” _

 

“ _ Don't say that. No one could ever replace you, Papa. No one. Not even a husband or wife.” _

 

“ _ I know you feel that way now, but wait until you see them. Wait until they come along and guide you away from your sorrows, my boy.” _

 

Yuri grumbled. How was Grandfather always right!? It was almost annoying how right he was all the time. He hears a knock at his door, opening it but not moving out of the way. “Wait. Before you come in, can I ask you something?”

 

“Oh. Yeah, shoot.” Otabek looks down at the 19 year old.

 

“Actually, I want to ask you a few something's.” He sighs. “How old are you?”

 

“22.” Otabek smiles. Perfect, getting to know each other. When Yuri lets him in, he heads over to sit on the bed.

 

“You ask me something, now.” Yuri sits near him on the bed, legs crossed and elbows on his knees.

 

“When did you start skating?”

 

“I don't know, when I was super young. Probably six or so...maybe younger.” Yuri thinks for a moment. “What's your favorite animal?”

 

“Hmm, probably a cheetah. They are fast and furious.” He grins, hitting that little metal ball against his teeth. He acts like it's habit, but really, he's just trying to tease Yuri with it. He already caught onto that boy's thoughts. He knows. “Have you ever dated someone?”

 

“No. I haven't. Have you?” Yuri was kind of embarrassed.

 

“Yeah. I have. A guy, and two girls. They were all shitheads though, didn't really last long.”

 

The pair laughed together, later talking about family, life struggles, which brings Yuri to opening up about his grandpa. He ends up laying across the bed horizontally, Otabek laying the same direction, but on his side and up on his elbow.

 

“My Papa died right before my birthday. He had heart problems and a really bad back that kept having to be operated on. It made him super weak. He ended up having a heart attack, leaving him unresponsive, and then he died.” Yuri frowns at the ceiling. “You should have met him. He was a good man. I wouldn't be who I am today without him.”

 

“A cute, spitfire, cat-lover?” Otabek laughs, a tint of pink on his cheeks.

 

“Psh, cute? Please. I am fucking feared around the world and you know it. Forget that  _ cute _ shit.” Yuri looks over at Otabek. “I'm going to call you Beka.”

 

“Sounds good, Yura.”

 

Yuri pauses, sitting up slowly. “Yura...?”  _ Where did you hear that? _

 

Like he was reading his thoughts, Beka quickly added, “Is that ok? I heard Viktor call you that, I kind of like it.”

 

“It's fine.” He sort of smiles.  _ A blessing on this wretched earth.  _ “Yeah. That's fine.”

 

“Alright. Yura it is.” Otabek grins, sitting up with Yuri. “I'm sorry about your grandfather, by the way. Death sucks.” He looks over at him. “My grandma died last year on Christmas. We weren't as close as you and your papa, but it was still pretty sad.” He fiddles with his fingers, trying to think of a way to change the subject, then smirks.

 

“What's with you and my tongue piercing-?”

 

“Nothing!”

 

“That was a pretty quick answer for nothing.” He watches Yuri flush, humming softly. “Do you want one? Do you have any piercings?”

 

Yuri shakes his head. “No. Is your tongue the only one you have?” When Beka shakes his head, he can feel that same excitement deep in his stomach again.  _ Shit. _

 

“I have...this one.” He uses his finger, reaching up his nostril to flip down a septum piercing. “Have to keep it flipped up for performances. Wouldn't want to risk it getting caught or something.” He grins. “Also...” He pats his eyebrow, frowning. “Well, I don't have the jewelry in, but I have two for my eyebrow. And as you can see, I have more than a few holes in my ears...I think that's all of them.”

 

Yuri is lost in outer space, mesmerized by the metal bar in his nose, the ball he can see flashing every now and then as he speaks. If nothing else in the world was his blessing, Otabek Altin surely was. Yuri finds himself just smiling like a goof ball, practically drooling over this new boy who appeared out of nowhere.

 

“I want to take you on a date, Yuri.” Otabek reaches out, gently taking hold of some of Yuri's hair. He gently rubs it between his fingers, letting it go again and dropping his hand. “Do you want to go to dinner with me?” He smiles, really hoping he would say yes.

 

Yuri hums, shifting where he sat and eventually looking over to his friend. “Fine. We can go on a date, but only if we completely avoid the fangirls, understand? If a single one shows up, we are leaving.”

 

Otabek smiles wide.  _ Hell yes.  _ “Sounds like a plan, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woohoo!! Feel free to let me know of mistakes @puddle-party on tumblr, or drop by and give me some suggestions! Thank you :D
> 
> Allow me to add as well, that I am not quite following canon meetings? Some of them yes, but not all. I am somewhat adding my own take or own meetings :D


	4. Motorcycle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner dates are a thing of the now. Watch as Otabek only falls deeper in love

Yuri ended up making Otabek leave so he could get ready, which really just meant he wanted to take a nap before the night started. He was tired and a little worn down from emotions. Even if his new friend did make him laugh, he still had that tight feeling in his chest. He had thrown his shirt off, changing into some shorts instead of jeans. Afterwards, he grabbed his phone, looking through his Instagram. He bites his lip, going to the search bar at the top and typing in all possible spellings of Otabek Altin. After a frustrating ten minutes, he finally found him, smiling wide and tapping on the name. He then frowns. Account private? Dammit.

 

“Of course. Now he's going to know I'm stalking him.” He rolls his eyes, pushing on the follow button. He is about to exit the app and wait, but his phone vibrates, telling him his request was accepted. “Well that was fast. Maybe he's stalking me...” He catches himself smiling, then forces himself to stop. He goes through some of his selfies and other pictures, totally impressed. This guy was pretty attractive. He ends up scrolling way down, humming softly. There was a picture of when he first got his tongue pierced, the expression painful, but he still had that smirk, tongue sticking out. It was kind of hot, he wasn't going to lie. He daringly liked the photo, continuing through his feed.

 

He notices that Otabek is doing the same thing, little like notifications coming up here and there. He smiles, then forces himself to stop once more. No. He will not be getting giddy over this. Not yet. Not right now.

 

“ _ Make sure you let them in, Yuri. Someone will love you very much when you let them in and see who you really are. You are a beautiful boy, both inside and out, Yurochka.” _

 

Yuri frowns, putting his phone on the charger and curling up. Sleep. That's what he needed right now.

 

He woke again, hours later, to the sound of someone knocking on his door. “Yuri? Are you in there? Are we still down for dinner?” Shit! It took him a moment before he jolted from his bed, running to the door.

 

“Hey!” He flings the door open, frowning. “I'm sorry I...I fell asleep. Yes we are down for dinner. I need to get ready.” He pauses, looking down at his half naked self. Shit.

 

“Why don't you just go like that?” Otabek laughs slightly, stepping into the room. “Oh, shit. Your hip looks horrible.” He reaches out, bending down slightly as he runs his thumb over the injury. Yuri jolts away and he stands up straight again.

 

The blond slaps his hand, speaking in a mocking tone. “'Oh hey Yuri, that looks really painful, maybe I should touch it?' Are you an idiot?” Yuri grumbles, walking over to his suit case. He squats down, pulling out some comfortable leggings and a long baggy sweater. He wants to be comfortable. Especially with his bruised hip bone. Those jeans had rubbed it all kinds of raw. He gestures for Otabek to turn around with one sassy hand, proceeding to get changed when he does finally turn. He walks over, slipping some shoes on and grabbing a hat, a scarf, and again his sunglasses.

 

“You know it's dark outside right? And you might wanna fix your hair.”

 

Yuri glances in the mirror, his hair sticking up in a million different directions. Flipping him off, he rolls his eyes as he fixed his hair and throwed his sunglasses somewhere else in the room.

 

“Perfect. Ready?” Otabek offers his hand, then immediately takes it back, hoping Yuri hadn't seen it.

 

“Yeah.”

 

They made their way down to the garage, Yuri expecting some bullshit 'cool guy' car, but he is pleasantly surprised by the black motorcycle, even more surprised when a helmet was tossed his way. He had barely caught it, staring at his reflection in its gleam.

 

“Come here, you'll probably want to, like...here.” He steps up to Yuri, adjusting his scarf so that his mouth and nose are covered, slipping the helmet over his head. “There. The wind gets pretty nippy on this baby.” He does the same to himself, winking before sitting down and starting up his bike. “Mm..listen to that kitten purr. Hop on, Yura.”

 

_ Gladly. _ He jumps on, wrapping his arms around Otabek's chest. He feels oddly safe and comfortable. He gently grabs fistfuls of the other’s leather jacket, laying his head against his back.

 

“You're not scared, are you, Yuri?” He can  _ feel _ Otabek chuckle.

 

“Fuck no. Drive before I pinch you.” Yuri slides his arms just a bit further back so it doesn't seem like he is clinging to Otabek.

 

Once they are on the road, Yuri sits up a bit, looking around at his surroundings. He loves this. The feeling of being so exposed, so out in the open. The motorcycle is quite...liberating. With each rev of the engine, one more thought of his grandpa is peeled from his mind, thrown out onto the road and left behind in the mucky slush of snow left over on the sidewalks. When they come to a stop light, Yuri peeks around to look at Otabek's face.

 

“We are almost there. Sure you aren't scared?”

 

“No! Why would I be scared-!!”

 

Otabek takes that declaration, popping a wheelie, really a half-assed one, forcing Yuri to cling tighter to his torso as they drive off again. When they landed back safely on the ground, the blonde felt bile rising to his throat, swallowing hard to keep it down.

 

“Beka!! What the actual fuck are you thinking! What if we died doing that!”

 

“Oh please, we would never die when I'm behind this baby.” He pulls over in front of a nice restaurant, turning off the bike and shoving the key into his pocket. “Let's go, chicken.”

 

Yuri mumbles a soft string of harsh words, removing his helmet and shoving it into Otabek's chest. He moves away from him, going into the building and pulling his scarf away from his face. 

 

Otabek quickly followed, worried that he really pissed Yuri off, heading over there to apologize. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I won't do it again, okay?”

 

“Whatever. I wasn't even fucking scared. I just didn't want you to wreck and get hurt.”  _ Every time I find someone good and whole in this world, they leave me and die. You aren't dying on me, Beka. Not for any reason. _ “Can we just go  _ eat _ now?” He pushes past Otabek, entering the building of good smelling food. The taller man follows, sighing softly. They wait for a minute to be serviced, the silence killing the Kazakh.

 

“Yuri.”

 

“What?”

 

“Are you mad?”

 

“Yeah! I mean..I don't know. I guess not anymore.”

 

“What can I do to make up for it-”

 

“You can shut up and leave me alone for now.” Yuri snaps, crossing his arms over his chest. Otabek just nods, following the waitress that takes them to a booth, gracefully placing menus in front of them once they are seated, asking about drinks and such. When she leaves, Yuri looks up. They end up chatting about the different skaters and who annoys them the most.

 

“I hate that stupid cocky JJ. He could break his neck on the ice and I wouldn't give a rat's ass.” Yuri spits, shaking his head. “What about you?”

 

“Eh. Can't say I really hate anyone that much. Not a fan of Giacometti.” They end up laughing at the same time, Otabek crossing his ankles under the table, his feet accidentally grazing up against Yuri's. He is about to apologize, but he notices that the blond doesn't say anything about it, just kind of shifts in his seat.  _ Maybe he didn't feel it? _ Curious, he does it again, just a gentle tap up against his toes, almost seeming like an accident again.  _ Oh come on, he had to feel that. _ He is surprised to feel a tap on his own foot.  _ Oh, so that’s your game?  _ He can't help but grin, wondering what the hell this means. Sure, Yuri was unpredictable, but there  _ had  _ to be a way to read this boy.  _ There had to be. _ He reaches his leg over pointing his toe and laying his right foot between Yuri's two small ones, his left foot resting beside Yuri's right. Yeah,  this was ok.

 

They went on the rest of the night, playing footsie back and forth, not saying a word about it, but they both knew what was going on. As they talked to each other about other pointless topics, a foot would gently rub against a leg, or a leg would pull the other one closer. Yuri started to feel giddy again, slowly opening up more and more about his childhood, talking about all of the fun times he had with his grandfather as Otabek  listened to him. Smiling fondly while he spoke, he almost smacked his cup off the table multiple times when he got excited enough to use hand motions. Beka just kept his hand on the glass, scooting it forward and backward depending on where those small delicate hands flew. Day turned into night, signally  it was time to leave as Otabek payed without a second thought, begrudgingly untangling his legs from Yuri's.

 

He stands, stretching his arms and legs and back. He had been sitting in the same position for hours, his bones cracking as he twists his back. They walked back to his bike silently, Otabek wishing to reach down and take his hand, but he knows he really shouldn't. When they get out to the bike again, he takes out Yuri's helmet, offering it to him. He sees that he's struggling to get the scarf back up around his face.  Otabek rests the helmet between his knees, taking the scarf and carefully tucking it behind Yuri's ears as he ensured that his nose and mouth were covered before letting the blond's hair fall down around his ears once more.

 

“There. It can be tricky sometimes.” He grabs the helmet again, plopping it on Yuri's head backwards, kinda chuckling. He fixes his own scarf and helmet to be comfortable before sitting down and turning back to Yuri. He laughs, enjoying the way those eyes are glaring directly at him. Perfect.

 

“You will pay for that later. When you least expect it.”

 

“Sure, Yura. Sit down, let's go.” Otabek smiles, tugging Yuri by the front of his jacket down onto the bike.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woohoo!! Feel free to let me know of mistakes @puddle-party on tumblr, or drop by and give me some suggestions! Thank you :D


	5. Russian-Sized Shots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri and Otabek get a little more than tipsy, eventually ending up in a short-lived makeout session. No sexies happen in this chapter but never fear, it will in later chapters. For now, our young virgin Yuri is a little too skiddish for that.
> 
> First you must tame the cat ;3

Otabek slowly pulled into the parking garage, putting up his kickstand and removing his motorcycle key. He stays sitting there as he slid off his helmet off, not wanting to move away from Yuri's arms around his waist. As he pushes his scarf down and turns to look at Yuri, a smirk slips onto his lips. The kid is asleep.  _ Oh good lord. _ He sighs, getting off the bike with care, turning around and letting Yuri's head land gently against his hip. “Oh.” He hums, unable to help the smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth when Yuri lets out a soft grumble. He gently removes the helmet off of Yuri's head, smoothing out his hair, soon enough deciding to just pick the boy up and take him inside.

 

He puts his own helmet back on his head for ease, carrying Yuri's in his hand, and finally picking the blond up and heading inside with him. He keeps one arm hooked under his knees, the other arm around Yuri's back. It wasn’t a big deal for Otabek since he was plenty strong enough and the boy was still small and easy to carry. When he gets to the room, he groans in deadly realization.

 

The key card for Yuri's room was in his wallet. His wallet was in his back pocket. His back pocket was over his ass. Great.

 

He prays to any and all gods above that Yuri doesn't wake up, but sure enough, when his right hand starts slipping into his back pocket, Yuri slowly stirs, making some soft sleep noises. “Mm..?” Otabek freezes, hand right over his wallet.  _ Dammit. So close.  _ After a moment of waking up, Yuri glares at Otabek.

 

“What the fuck are you doing..?” He huffs when he is set down, pushing at Otabek's chest. “Were you making a move on me when I was _asleep_!?” He shakes his head. “Damn. That's pretty low, Beka.”

 

Otabek's eyes shoot wide open and he vigorously shakes his head. “No! I was going for your wallet!”

 

“So now you're a thief?”

 

“Your key card-!” He looks down at smirking lips and narrowed eyes.  _ You asshole.  _ “You knew  _ exactly _ what I was doing.” He starts to smirk right along with Yuri, finding himself stepping closer to the younger blond.

 

Yuri laughs mockingly at Otabek, reaching back to get his key card while keeping eye contact with Otabek.  _ Invite him in.  _ Good idea, brain.

 

“Do you want to come in? We could order room service or something if you want.” He is totally going to try and get alcohol out of this guy.

 

“If you're wanting drinks, we should probably go to the room of the one who  _ isn't under-aged _ in this country.” Otabek smirks, totally catching onto Yuri's little game here.

 

“Fine.” He puts his key away, walking with Otabek down the hall to the other's room. When they get there, Otabek takes his own key out, sliding it into the door.

 

“Come on in, excuse the mess.”

 

When Yuri walks in, he almost wants to punch Otabek.  _ What fucking mess? _ Everything was put up nicely, suits hung nicely, shoes all in a collected in a pile nicely, clothes kept all sorted in the suit case nicely, the only thing that was messy was his slightly unmade bed.  _ Seriously!? My room must have looked like a tornado hit it. _ Yuri shakes his head, walking straight over to the phone and picking up a small menu. He had no problems picking out what alcohol he wanted, telling his little order to Otabek.

 

“Getting right down to business, huh?” Otabek walks over, picking up the phone. “How are you paying me back, Yura?”

 

He puts on his best JJ voice, also making an ugly face while he's at it. “Paying you back? You're in my presence, isn't that enough?” When he makes the JJ symbol with his hands, Otabek snorts, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. He crosses one arm over his chest, finding himself looking Yuri over while he places his over-the-phone order, glancing down only as far as where he thinks his belly button might be, then quickly looking back up. Yuri has a brow quirked, and that definitely didn't go unnoticed.

 

Once Otabek is off the phone, Yuri scoffs. “What are you looking at, Beka?” He stands with his feet at shoulder width, arms crossed over his chest.

 

_ You're just so pretty.  _ “Nothing in particular.”  _ How do you stay so graceful? How do you remain so beautiful?  _ “Can I ask you something?”

 

“I guess.”

 

“How have you never dated anyone?” Otabek stands, towering over Yuri. “How has no one looked at you and thought you were just too gorgeous to let go?” He sighs, rubbing his face and walking off to his bed, fixing the blankets and adjusting the pillows. “I just realized how creepy that probably sounds. Don't worry, I'm not trying to lock you in my room and keep you forever. I just...” He wonders where the shovel is and how he can dig himself out of this hole he's in. “I know we just met technically when I caught you face, but I really like who I've seen. And I want to know who Yuri Plisetsky really is.”

 

Yuri is frozen, facing the same direction he had been facing when Otabek was still in front of him.  _ Say something you fucking idiot, don't just stand here. Come on, agree, leave, yell, be disgusted, love what he says, do  _ **_something_ ** . “Uhh...”  _ Good one. _ “I think...I guess I'm willing to let you find out.”  _ There we go. _ “Just...can I have time to think about it?”

 

“Oh. Yeah, yeah of course, I'm not asking you out right now or anything, I'm just...I guess you could say I have a pretty huge crush on you. Man, when you fell asleep holding onto me like that on the bike...sealed the deal. Done and done.” Otabek just sits on the bed, looking over at Yuri. “You don't have to feel the same, by the way. I understand. This skating dude comes out of nowhere, saying he has totally fallen for you, I don't really expect you to feel the same way so suddenly-”

 

“I had a really good time tonight.” Yuri finally turns around. “I haven't laughed like that in awhile. Not even with Viktor and the stupid pig.” He glares at Otabek, slowly walking over like he is planning to slaughter him. “No one has taken my mind off of my grandpa since he died.  _ No one.  _ But tonight, you made me forget what I was even sad about. Does that clear anything up? Does that tell you how I feel?” Yuri stalks closer, planting his two little feet right in front of his new pal. “I appreciate it.”

 

Otabek is kind of just sitting there, staring into those green eyes that tell such tales. So many broken stories. “You could have just said thank you, I thought you were going to strangle me.”

 

“I'm still thinking about it.” Yuri cracks a smile, his eyes hardly softening.

 

“Your eyes...” Otabek stands, looking down into Yuri's green eyes. They are nearly chest to chest, but neither of them move. “...they're like a soldier’s.” Someone knocks on the door, forcing Otabek to move away from what could have been a tender moment.  _ Dammit.  _ He answers the door, taking their bottles and snacks, turning back to Yuri. “Let's have some fun, fairy-boy.”

 

“Say that again and my fist and your groin are going to have some fun.” Yuri glares, then his eyes shoot wide open. “A-As in, I am going to punch you. In the dick. Nothing else.”  _ Well fuck, that could not have been worse. _

 

Otabek just laughs, setting the glass bottles down and searching for some cups. “Sure, Jan.”

 

“Did you just meme me?”

 

“Probably.”

 

“Beka, I swear-”

 

“Here, you get the first shot since you're the big boy that wanted it.” More like he wants to see if Yuri can hold his shit. He pours what he assumes is a shot, but Yuri smirks at him.

 

“That is merely a sip to a Russian, Beka.” He steals the bottle, pouring a hefty amount in before chugging it down with ease. “Your turn.” The boy doesn't even make a face.

 

_ Jesus. _ Otabek pours his own shot, gulping it down with  _ not so much _ ease, definitely looking pained or something by the taste. “I don't know  _ how _ you do that, but I am thoroughly impressed, Plisetsky.”

 

Many shots later, they are both full spread-eagle on the bed, giggling about nothing. Otabek had one of Yuri's hands in his own, bending his thin fingers this way and that way, playing with them. Yuri lets him do this, not quite as drunk as the other, but surely a little more than tipsy. He rolls over onto his tummy, pulling his hand away from Otabek to do so.

 

“Yuri.”

 

“Beka.”

 

“Have you ever kissed someone before?”

 

“No. How would I have kissed someone if I never dated someone.” Yuri shakes his head, rolling his eyes and looking over at Otabek.

 

“Do you want to?” Beka sits up, propped up on his elbows, head tilted slightly to the side.

 

Yuri hums, kinda sitting up. “Well, do  _ you _ want to?” He watches how quickly Otabek nods, kinda biting his own lip. “We can if you want to.”

 

Otabek sits up, taking that consent and getting right to work with it. He scoots closer, taking Yuri's face in his hands.  _ “Nice.” _ He leans in, chuckling deep from his throat, planting the world's softest kiss on Yuri's lips, tilting his head to make it easier.

 

_ Why does this feel so nice? Why is it easy? I want this to last forever.  _ Yuri reaches up, one of his hands landing gently on Otabek's bicep, hanging out there for awhile before sliding down and resting on his elbow. His hand just rests, not really moving or anything anymore until he feels a little metal ball pushing against his lips. His eyes shoot open and he jerks away.

 

“What..? Was that not okay..? Yura?” Otabek visibly gulps, his Adam's apple rising and then falling again.

 

“No. It was fine. Just..warn me next time.”

 

“What the hell do I say, Yuri? 'Alright, here I go, I'm going to put my tongue in your mouth now.'” This causes the younger to laugh.

 

Yuri gets up on his knees, scooting on them over to Otabek and placing himself right into his lap. “If you say it like that, I might just leave.” He closes his eyes when hands move into his blond hair, feeling himself being pulled down for more wet kisses.

 

This time, Otabek is a lot quicker to using his tongue, but Yuri happily lets him in. When their tongues come together, he is instantly searching for that metal ball, finding it and playing with it. Yes.  _ Yes. _ Yuri whines into their kiss, wrapping his arms around Otabek's neck. He pulls him in closer, panting heavily through his nose until it begins to burn deep in his throat, his head starting to feel a little fuzzy. He pulls away, gasping for air and letting his head fall back. Realizing he just needed a breath, Otabek goes for his throat, kissing up and down a soft pale neck. He begins sucking low next to his collarbone, repeating the process all the way up to Yuri's ear. Yuri whines, gripping at Otabek's short hair while his neck is sucked on.

 

“B-Beka...are you leaving marks..?” He groans when he feels the sucking and then a bit of teeth. There is barely a grunt from Beka, indicating that yes, he is leaving marks. He whines, knowing what will happen if Viktor saw those hickies. Good thing scarves existed.

 

Once his lungs find him again, he goes back in for more kisses, closing his eyes and totally enjoying himself. He hums, feeling two warm hands creep up his thighs. When one of the hands lands on his hip, he is fine with it, but he jumps when the other starts slipping into his leggings and fingers are pressing into his skin.

 

“B-Beka! No, don't..!” He forces his hand out, pushing away somewhat.  _ Is that really all this was!? _

 

“Huh?” Otabek frowns, linking their fingers together in a silent apology. “What's wrong, Yuri?”

 

He takes his hand back, looking down. “I don't want my first time to be in a fucking hotel room, you idiot!” He scoots off of his lap, kind of put off by the whole situation.

 

“Oh. I didn't...I'm sorry, I got all caught up in the moment...” He leans over, gently kissing Yuri's cheek, petting through his hair. He pulls Yuri down with him, kissing his neck softly. “Are you mad at me, now?”

 

Yuri shakes his head.  _ Not really mad. Just kind of...confused.  _ “No.” He can't be mad at those lips, those lidded chocolate eyes. “Mmm...is it obvious..?” He stares up at the ceiling, sighing softly as he feels more marks getting sucked into his skin, this time on the other side of his neck. He groans, tilting his head back, eventually just letting his eyes close. “Beka...Beka, wait...” He sighs, pushing the other's head away. “Viktor is going to kill you when he sees this.” Yuri could still hear Viktor’s painfully excruciating talks of how he would protect Yuri’s “honor” and the sex talk as Yuuri gently chided his husband from behind. While the pig and him had their differences, he had never been more grateful. 

 

Otabek laughs, pulling away and looking up at him. He pulls the blond in close, kissing his cheek, then his lips again. “At least I would die happy...”

 

“That is bullshit. He would torture the fuck out of you, you would definitely not die happy. You would die in pain, screaming out to whatever god you worship.” Yuri cuddles into his chest, taking a deep breath and smiling. Otabek smells like...something woodsy. Like what Yuri would imagined the deep forests would smell like.  _ Camping smells like this. _

 

“Are you going to stay here tonight?” Otabek pulls Yuri closer, still feeling guilty for freaking him out like that. “I promise I won't steal from you while you're sleeping this time.” He smirks,  _ feeling  _ Yuri laugh instead of hearing him.

 

“Mhm...”

 

_ Nice. _ Otabek sighs, pulling the blankets up over them. “Goodnight, Fairy.” All he hears is a grunt before they are both fast asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, leave any comments or questions on my tumblr @kuridoodledoo (changed my URL on you guys, sorry) also, please let me know about any embarrassing typos or other mistakes!!


	6. So Be It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor is a protective dad, Otabek just wants to help, Yuuri has no place in the story right now, and our dearest Yurio is in the middle of a mental crisis. When he realizes that there is no one to come home to, no one to hold dearly and talk about his day with, no one to care about his experience in the other countries, he finds himself losing many tears.

It soon came time for the skaters to return to their home countries, only two days after Yuri and Otabek's little fling. To Yuri's satisfaction, they weren’t awkward after that moment. Otabek helped Yuri to cover up the bruises on his neck with a little bit of makeup and a scarf, the two of them exchanging many more sober kisses this time. They posted plenty of selfies together, mostly on Yuri's instagram. Every comment from Viktor was jealous, and every comment from Yuuri was happy that he had made a nice friend. Little did they know.

Checking out of their rooms. Otabek had all of his things neatly packed and ready, hanging out in Yuri's room and helping put all of his shit together. There was definitely too much, leaving Otabek to wonder how he even packed all of it in the first place. 

They hardly got anything done, distracted with kisses and hugs, Otabek forcing Yuri into a little spin, moving his arm uncomfortably so he had no choice but to turn around. He pulls him in close, dipping the small blond with ease.

“I'll call you when I get home, alright?” Otabek leans in, placing a gentle kiss on Yuri's lips. He slowly lifts him back up, not having to bend too far to continue kissing him. “You'll miss me, right?”

Of course you idiot. “Not one bit.” Yuri grins, hugging close to Otabek. “Just because you're leaving doesn't mean you get to forget about me...” What if he has a girl back home? She's waiting for him...probably with big blue eyes and long blond hair...great. Yuri shakes his head, pulling away to look up at Otabek. “After I totally kick your ass at the Grand Prix Final, you will come to St. Petersburg.”

“And after I totally kick your ass at the Grand Prix Final, you'll come to Almaty.”

“Deal. Hope you like Russian food.” Yuri smirks, walking away to finish packing his stuff. Otabek just stands there, watching him. You need to make that brat your boyfriend, real quick.

A few minutes later, Viktor is knocking at Yuri's door. “Hey, Yurochka, are you done yet? We are the last ones out and the last thing I want is to be stuck here for another day after missing our flight, move it.”

“Fuck off, Vitya, we have plenty of time!” He groans, looking to Otabek. “Beka, will you let him in? He is just going to bang the door like it's Yuuri if you don't.”

Otabek snorts, walking over and opening it up, neither of the boys thinking about the fact that Yuri's neck hasn't been covered for the day. How wonderful. Yuri is bent over, shoving everything into his suitcases and carry-ons, finally standing up when he deems it good enough. He turns, glaring at Viktor.

“Where's your fat piggy? Waiting for you in the lobby? Too lazy to come with you to the room?” He waits for Viktor's response, but it doesn't come. “What the hell are you staring at, Vitya??” He grunts, glaring harder.

“Those aren't from your fall are they?” Viktor steps toward Yuri, taking a closer look at his neck. “What are those, Yura?”

Yuri claps both hands over his neck, eyes going a bit wide. “Yeah they are. They are from the fall.”

“No they aren't. Who gave you those?” Viktor reached to move his hands, but Yuri slaps Viktor's hands away before he could.

“No one.”

“Bullshit.”

“Vitya, leave me alone.” Yuri's cheeks grow bright red, Viktor slowly turning around with a dark smile on his lips. Shit. I told Otabek he would flip.

“You.”

“Me..?”

“Viktor.” Yuri nearly whines, rolling his eyes. “I wanted him to. I wanted to know what it felt like. And now I do. We aren't fucking. Besides, who are you to talk?? I am so glad my room wasn't next to yours this time. I know what you guys do in hotel rooms. Sickos.”

“I'll get you for this later, Altin.” Viktor grumbles. “Do they hurt?”

“No.” Well. They're tender. But it feels good. “Get out of my room, I'll be down in five minutes.” Viktor sighs in defeat, leaving the room, but not before glaring at Otabek on his way out. Yuri just sighs, rubbing his face. “He is so fucking stupid.”

Otabek moves over toward him, leaning down with a smirk and pressing kisses to each and every hickey. “I haven't ever seen your face this red. It is so cute.” He pulls Yuri in close, messing with his long hair.

“Shut the fuck up, get off of me.” He pushes Otabek away, heading over to get his suitcases. “Are you going to help me or what?” He stops for a moment, reaching up to tie his hair out of his face. It looks so much prettier that way. He likes it way better. Otabek walks over, taking a suitcase and a carry-on, helping to move them out. He stacks the bag atop his own suitcase, wheeling both of them out the door, holding it for Yuri.

“Let's go, Ice Princess.” He smirks.

“I swear...some of the fucking nicknames you come up with.” Yuri nearly growls, putting on a coat and a scarf before heading out the door. Otabek trails him, looking him over as they walk along. He will forever admire those long legs.

“I can't wait to show Grandpa that I-...” Yuri slows down. Show Grandpa what? He's dead, what are you going to show him? Yuri stops, looking down at his feet and just standing there. He grips the handle of his suitcase tighter, his knuckles turning white from the pressure. Grandpa. There is no more coming home to Grandpa. Before he knows it, he is dropping his suitcase and slowly squatting down to curl in on himself. This week had been so much better, he forgot about the death, he thought that everything was going to be okay, and then it just...wasn't.

“Yura.” Otabek rushes over, crouching down and holding the boy who doesn't even realize he is crying. “Shh...I know...” He holds the sobbing blonde, kissing the side of his warm head, rubbing his back to comfort him. He quickly shoots a message to Viktor, asking him to come back up to the floor they were on. He frowns hard, his eyebrows slowly but surely knitting together. “Yuri...come here...” Even if there wasn't really anymore here to come to, Yuri scooted closer to Otabek, pressing his face into a warm chest as he cried. “Oh, my Yura...” My Yura? My Yura. Mine. He frowns a bit, mostly in confusion. Why the hell was he so drawn to this boy?

Soon enough, Viktor is beside them, not trying to move Yuri, just kind of helping with his bags. “Yuuri and I will take his stuff, come meet us in the lobby when you're ready.”

Well for how hostile you were being before, I am surprised. Otabek hums a tune that Yuri didn’t recognize, nodding and holding Yuri close. “Talk to me...I'll get you through this.”

“Beka...who the fuck am I going home to...” His shitty mom? Yeah. That would be fun. “There is no one back home for me to...to see and...” He hiccups, pushing Otabek away with a harsh shove. “Leave me alone!” He stands, rushing away and taking the stairs, not wanting any reason to be near someone.

Otabek stands there, staring in the direction he went. “Well...so be it.” He takes his own luggage, walking toward the elevator and heading down. He needed to catch a plane soon anyways. Once he gulps his heart back down, he breathes a heavy sigh. A taxi had been outside waiting for him. Without a glance back at a confused Viktor, he gets into the car and heads for the airport. He just needs some space.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY FOR THE SAD. I was struggling so much with this chapter. Feel free to give some suggestions @kuridoodledoo on tumblr!!! I may come back and fix this...unsure right now. Yikes.


	7. Home?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On his way to breakfast, Yuri meets up with the savior of his face. He is hostile at first, but later on accepts his fate of this guy following him to the cafe.
> 
> A lot of crying from Yuri, but everything will be okay in the end.

The plane home was stressful, filled with tears and angry confusion. Yuri was  thinking non-stop about where he would go, what he would do, and finally, when he was going to ‘man up’ and visit his grandfather’s grave.

 

_“We are going to see your dedushka, let’s go.”_

 

_“I can’t, mama. Not today.”_

 

_“Man up, Yurochka, You cannot hide from death forever.” His mother huffed, leaving with a slam of the door._

 

Man up. _Tch._ Yuri found that once again, his hands were in fists and his eyes were filled with tears. How was he supposed to uphold his reputation as the _Russian Punk_ if all he did now was cry? Crying. In Yuri’s book, that meant weakness. He felt weak as if his whole world was coming down on him, enveloping him in darkness. Once the plane landed, and they had made it to baggage claim, Yuri had been stuck in a numb feeling. Nothing was sad, happy, or anything really. He just sort of felt... _there._ He rode home with Viktor and Yuuri, taking up the offer of staying with them for the night. He already knew this was going to end in him staying long-term, it already had many times before when his grandfather had been in the hospital. Anything to avoid staying with his mother.

 

Viktor sat in the back of the taxi with Yuri, Yuuri up in the front next to the driver. They had silently agreed it would be best for Yuri to have someone to hug to if need be. The married pair ended up striking up a conversation with the driver, who had seen their recent skating competition. As they go on talking, Yuri finds himself shrinking in on himself. He eventually just takes out his phone, staring at the blank screen for a moment before using his thumb to turn it on. Two Instagram notifications indicated that Otabek had messaged him hours ago. He frowns, sighing and swiping his phone open.

 

 **Otabek-altin:** hope your flight went okay, maybe we can skype later

 

 **Otabek-altin:** just noticed my computer is dead, no charger to be found, text me if you want

 

Yuri sighs, wondering what to say back.

 

 **Yuri-plisetsky:** hey, plane was fine I guess, Piggy and Vitya just slept the whole time. I was fucking bored

 

He figures he will be waiting awhile for an answer, so he starts to put his phone away. However, his phone dings almost instantly, prompting a smile to creep onto his lips.

 

 **Otabek-altin:** that stinks, I charged my laptop, btw

 

 **Otabek-altin:** are you home?

 

Home. What home? Yuri frowns, shaking his head.

 

 **Yuri-plisetsky:** staying with vik

 

He puts his phone away this time, his face growing red. He felt like he was going to be sick, his stomach gurgling, the feeling slipping up his throat.

 

_“Oh Yurochka...you make yourself sick when you get so angry like this...you can’t get upset just because he won’t play with you..!” Nikolai held his grandson’s hand, tucking him into bed and lightly petting through his hair. “Why don’t I make you some soup, and we can watch Masha and the Bear...alright?” He walks off to make the soup, stopping first to turn on the TV._

 

_“Ded..?” The small 7 year old slowly sat up._

 

_“Yes, Yuri?” Nikolai turns, looking at Yuri._

 

_“We can’t watch the one where she keeps getting messy.” He crosses his arms. “We watched it yesterday.”_

 

_Nikolai smiles. “Of course. I’ll be back.” He just nods, turning on a new episode and heading out of the room._

 

Yuri doesn’t remember closing his eyes, but when he opens them again, they are in front of Viktor’s house, the cab being unloaded. He slowly sits up, realizing they allowed him to rest in the car for a moment. He climbs out, going around the back of the cab and getting his own suitcase.

 

“Hey, sleepyhead. Your phone was going off like crazy while you were out.” Yuuri smiles that usual bright smile, helping Yuri with his bags, placing them on the snowy concrete once they were out of the trunk. “Here. Viktor will be back out to help-”

 

“I’m not a fucking baby! I don’t need all this help just because Grandpa died! You guys are being so fucking stupid!” Yuri turns on his heel, getting up on the sidewalk before taking off in the opposite direction of the house. He hears Yuuri yelling after him, but that just pushes him to walk even faster. He shoves his hands in his pockets, tugs his hood up over his head, and grumbles low in his throat.

 

“Yurio!! Yuri!?”

 

 _Fuck off, you fat pig. Fuck off!_ He finds himself running, his hood falling back off of his head from the wind, and from his harsh footsteps. His phone starts to ring, but he ignores it, continuing to run.

 

_Where will you go?_

 

_He doesn’t live there anymore._

 

_He doesn’t live there anymore_

 

 _He doesn’t_ **_live_ ** _anymore._

 

Yuri stops once he rounds the corner, screaming into his hands and squatting down in the deep snow. He wants to just hide in it, hide under piles and piles of snow. It couldn’t possibly be colder than the feeling of having to live without his grandad. He finally just sat there in the snow, pulling out his phone and checking it.

 

 **Otabek-altin:** that should be fun

 

 **Otabek-altin:** hope you have fun

 

 **Otabek-altin:** ill set up my computer after a shower

 

 **Otabek-altin:** hey im done

 

Yuri grumbles, his frozen fingers trying to type a message back.

 

 **Yuri-plisetsky:** sorry, busy, maybe later

 

He stands again, his pants all wet, his legs slowly getting closer. He doesn’t have much meat on his bones so nothing is really there to keep him warm. With what seemed like a permanent scowl, he walks back to the house that Viktor and Yuuri are in, scrambling around and begging Makkachin to find Yuri.

 

Once he had slowly made his way up the steps, Yuri just walks in, aggressively pushing past Viktor. “Get the fuck out of the way.”

 

“Yuri, wait, come have dinner, you don’t have to go sit alone in your room and sulk!” Viktor reaches out, gently grabbing his arm and turning him around. Like the supportive ‘dad’ he is, he just pulls him close. “Yura, how do you expect to overcome this alone? It will be okay, you just need to talk about it. I looked online, the Google says to just talk to your teen-”

 

“I am an adult, Viktor! And I don’t need any help right now! I don’t need you smothering me, following me around, feeding me like a baby-”

 

“Will you please just listen and talk with me? You’re being so difficult and I think if we just sit down and talk, _honestly_ , about Nikolai’s death, you will start to feel better soon. But shutting everyone out, including someone who is head over heels for you, is not a good method.”

 

Yuri pauses, slowly looking up at Viktor. “Fine. Watch an episode of Masha with me, and we can talk.”

 

Viktor just nods, going off to set up the tv with a shake of his head. Yuri watches him, huffing slightly.

 

“What’s Masha?” Yuuri looks over, tilting his head in question.

 

“An animated kid’s show. Masha and the Bear.” He frowns. “Grandpa would watch it with me sometimes when I was sad or upset or…” _Or sickly angry._ He huffs, walking into the kitchen to rummage for snacks. He doesn’t find much, other than chips and cookies, but he grabs what’s there, heading back to the couch. When Viktor calls him in, mentioning that it’s ready, he has already sat down with snacks in his lap. He pulls his leopard print blanket up around his shoulders, snuggling into the corner of the couch, in between the armrest and the backside.

 

“I picked the ice skating one...it doesn’t have much for dialog and Yuuri will easily understand what’s going on.” With that, Viktor pulls his Yuuri down, kissing his cheek and helping him get comfortable.

 

“Gross, leave that for the bedroom, I’m trying to watch a show here.” He mostly tunes out both things, the kissing and the show, secretly checking his phone under the blanket.

 

 **Yuri-plisetsky:** do you still want to skype

 

 **Otabek-altin:** yeah, of course

 

Yuri kinda smiles, then frowns. He needs to say sorry, and he knows it. “I’ll be right back.” He grabs some earbuds, taking off to the ‘guest room’. More like his room in disguise. He plugs his earbuds in, popping one in each ear, letting Otabek know that he’s ready. When the call screen comes up, he nervously waits to answer, a short squeal of anxiety exiting his throat. He gives in, answering the call without the video on for now.

 

 _“Yuri.”_ Otabek smiles on the other end. _“Are you all settled in?”_

 

Yuri nods, then speaks, realizing that Otabek cannot see him. “Yeah. I am. Viktor and Yuuri are watching a kid’s show in the living room, and I got bored.” He hums, looking at the smile that creeps onto Otabek’s face.

 

 _“Can I see you?”_ Otabek pokes at his screen for emphasis. _“I’m glad you’re not mad anymore.”_

 

“I wasn’t mad in the first place.” Yuri turns on his camera after fixing his hair. “I was just upset. Everyone is treating me like a child.” He frowns. It was like he had known Otabek for years; he could trust him. . “Viktor keeps hugging me, telling me to talk about, but he apparently doesn’t understand that I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to _open up..._ I don’t want to do any of that.” He sets his phone up so that he doesn’t have to hold it with his hands, but his face is still visible at a less than ugly angle.

 

 _“Yeah. I understand. I had a friend die when I was younger, and I didn’t want to talk about it with anyone. Not even my parents. They were always pushing me to talk, but it just made me angry I guess.”_ Otabek frowns, looking into his phone at that little angel’s face. _“If you don’t want to talk about it now or ever, I’ll respect that.”_ Otabek sighs, nibbling at his bottom lip when he doesn’t know what to say anymore.

 

Yuri looks into the camera, then looks away with a faint smile. “Thanks, Beka.” He sighs, rolling over onto his side, stretching his back, legs and arms. “How was your flight there?”

 

 _“There was a lot of turbulence. But aside from that, it was alright...there were some fans in the airport, they went a little crazy, but I found my car fast enough that they weren’t able to find me.”_ He laughs, rubbing his tired face. _“Jetlag is a bitch.”_ He sighs. _“It’s about midnight here. What about you?”_

 

“9pm.” Yuri hums. Three hours ahead of him? He will store that information away for later use. “I’m sorry for shoving you away in the hotel. Sure made me seem like a little kid, huh?”

 

 _“No way, I totally get it. You were upset. I should have paid attention to your body language.”_ Yuri hums at that, now on his back and looking at Otabek upside down. _“Subject change, you are an amazing kisser, did you know that?”_

 

Yuri laughs, shaking his head and rolling back over. “Says who?”

 

 _“Says the one who kissed you, like, a thousand times while I was with you?”_ Otabek finds himself grinning, biting his lip again, but not for a loss of words. _“You know, next time we see each other, I think we should go out to dinner again.”_ Otabek hums, trying to think of where he would take Yuri to yank that same laughter out from his lips. _“And this time, maybe we can call it an official date?”_

 

Yuri finds his cheeks growing quite hot, his blush coming on quickly. “An official date?” Yuri smiles, pretending to be thinking about it.

 

 _“Oh come on, you wouldn’t say no to free food would you?”_ Otabek puts his chin on his hand, smoothing out his hair with the other hand. _“Yuraaa~...”_

  


Yuri sighs, shaking his head. “Alright alright, if you’re going to whine then fine.” Not that he really had to think about the answer much. Of course he was willing to go on a real date with Otabek.

 

_“At the Grand Prix Final, after I kick your ass of course, I will happily take you out to dinner and show you what it’s like to have an awesome boyfriend.”_

 

Yuri quirks his brow. “Boyfriend..?” _Maybe that was a mistake?_

 

Otabek’s eyes go wide, his face turning red. _“Uh. Well...yeah. I think…”_ Otabek sighs, rubbing his sleepy face again. _“Well. I guess I was hoping you could be my boyfriend by then, Yura. If that’s okay with you.”_ Yuri found himself beet-red, just smiling through the video call.

 

“Are you going to ask me officially when you see me again?”

 

_“I will do it down on one knee just to embarrass you.”_

 

“If you do that, I will say no.” Yuri sits up, laughing a bit with Otabek, picking up his phone and cupping it like he would Otabek’s face. “Beka, you better not...or I just won’t be able to refuse.”

 

_“Well it’s settled then. I will ask you to be my boyfriend, down on one knee, all in front of everyone.”_

 

“Otabek, everyone will see it, everyone has cameras and the press will totally catch that. You really want every person in the world to know we are- er...will be dating?”

 

 _“You_ **_don’t_ ** _want that?”_ Otabek frowns. Is Yuri embarrassed or something?

 

“Well, no...yes, but, well...okay.” Yuri sighs. “If everyone knows, that gets the entire internet involved in our relationship. Then they start making assumptions about why or how we got together.”

 

_“Like what?”_

 

“Like...what if they say i got with you only because of the depression from papa’s death?” He quirks a brow, swallowing thickly.

 

_“Are you?”_

 

“No!”

 

 _“Well then there you go, problem solved!”_ Otabek smiles, trying to get Yuri to understand. _“Yura, if you don’t want to do it publicly, then that is fine. However, I don’t think we will have to worry about the bullshit online. We both know the truth, even if they start dumb rumors. Besides, we are skaters, not movie stars. It’s fine, Yura.”_

 

Yuri sighs, nodding whenever he finishes a sentence. “Okay, okay.” He hums, rubbing his face. “Fine, do it in public. Just don’t come crying to me when the fangirls start attacking.”

 

 _“Oh shit, you’re right.”_ Yuri smirks like he’s won. _“Eh, still worth it.”_ Otabek laughs when Yuri rolls his eyes, finding his distress about the fangirls somewhat hilarious.

 

“Well..I’ll let you sleep, Beka. You look dead tired.”

 

 _“And you have 20/20 vision.”_ Yuri laughs sweetly, almost a little too sweet, holding the phone up over his face as he lays down. _“Goodnight, Yura~..”_

 

Yuri smiles wide, wishing him a goodnight before ending the call. He puts his phone on the charger, taking the earbuds out of his ears. He heads toward the living room, peeking out to make sure no monkey business was happening, but it was just Viktor sitting with Yuuri between his legs, petting through smooth raven hair while the younger man slept. Yuri slipped onto the couch beside Viktor.

 

“How was your call, Yurochka?” Viktor lifts his arm, allowing the blonde to bury himself  under it, starting to pet through his hair. The small boy groans slightly, eyes rolling back at the feeling of having his hair played with.

 

“It was okay. Otabek said he is going to ask me to be his boyfriend.”

 

“I know, he messaged me and asked if he could.” When Yuri looks confused, Viktor hums. “He thought I hated him.” Yuri looks more confused, and Viktor laughs quietly. “You know I care for you, Yura. I just wasn’t happy with you two getting busy in the hotel rooms. At first, it seemed like he was taking advantage of you in a time of need.”

 

Yuri nods, knowing he doesn’t need to defend Otabek right now. He can tell Viktor doesn’t feel that way anymore. Which he appreciates. “Did you eat already?”

 

“Not yet. Want me to get up and make-”

 

“Just stay with the Piggy. I’ll make something.” Viktor nods, and Yuri lifts himself off the couch, not really caring about his crazy hair. He heads to the kitchen, making them something to eat. As he stands over the pot, Yuri starts to daydream a little bit about future things.

 

_Yuri stands next to the stove, gently pushing a stirfry pan back and forth over the burner. He is trying a new food, an online cookbook displayed before him on his phone._

 

_“Yuri, I’m home!” Otabek enters the kitchen, smiling sweetly, sniffing the air. “Mm~ that smells wonderful.” He walks in, placing his hands on Yuri’s shoulders, kissing the side of his neck and gently running his hands down his sides and to his hips. “Have you been working on this for awhile?”_

 

_“Yes. I hope it tastes as good as it smells.” Yuri laughs, turning in Otabek’s arms. “How was practice?”_

 

_Otabek kisses his lips, gently squeezing his hips. “It was fine. Wish you had been there.” Otabek lifts Yuri, placing him onto the counter and kissing down his neck, hands sliding up his thighs. He squeezes the inside of one of them, the other hand working his legs open. “It’s been a long day without you, Yura~...” Yuri moans, happily opening himself to the Kazakh man._

 

Shit. Fuck. “Ow, yebat!!” He yells, pulling his hand from the hot pot he was accidentally gripping. He rinses his hand in cold water, realizing the crotch of his pants had previously been...a little tight. He grumbles, happy that it goes away with the pain of a burn on his hand. Shit. Of course. _Fuck you, Otabek._

 

One of these days at least.


	8. Call It a Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor popped his head into the locker room, speaking softly. “Let’s call it a day.”
> 
> “Viktor, I don’t need you babying me! I’ll clean up and then we can-”
> 
> “No. Go home and rest, eat something, drink some water, we will try again tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry in advance for the short chapter, writers block is a bitch ^u^

Yuri did absolutely nothing but work hard in the time he had before the Grand Prix. He barely had time to talk with Otabek, who was also working hard. If he wasn’t practicing, he was embracing the sweet release of temporary death. Viktor pushed him harder and harder every day, only giving him breaks on days that Yuuri and him had dates. His legs were sore, his ankles were swollen, and his head had always been pounding.

 

“I know you are picturing it, Yuri! Picture that gold medal, feel it in your hands as you reach for the sky!” Viktor was yelling over the music from a different part of the rink. Yuri easily skated this routine with passion, his Grandpa always in mind. 

 

_ “Oh, Yuri!” Nikolai stepped out of his car, standing up and turning toward his grand son. _

 

_ Yuri ran as fast as he could, jumping up and into his Grandfather’s arms. “Grandpa!!” He yelled, wrapping his legs and arms around Nikolai. His eyes widen when he hears his back pop and crack, quickly jumping off and rubbing over it with his small hands. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I forgot about your bad back!” _

 

As Yuri came back to reality, he realized everything had gone wrong. He flubbed his jump, and was quickly flying through the air.  _ Shit. _ He barely got his hands up in time, sliding painfully along the floor, his face smashing against the rink wall. He laid there for a moment, groaning softly in anger and hurt. Concerned, Viktor yelled his name as he skated quickly over.

 

“Yurio, are you okay?” He knelt down, laying a gentle loving hand on his back. “Come on, get up, we will get you ice for your face.” As the boy rose, Viktor made a soft ‘eugh’ sound and scooted away. “Blood. Not for me.” Yuri glares at him, shoving him even further away and dashing off the ice.

 

Once he was in the locker room, he looked in the mirror to assess the damage on his face.  _ Great. _ His nose was oozing blood, his cheek was definitely going to bruise, and Otabek was for sure going to say something about this once they had time to call again. 

 

Viktor popped his head into the locker room, speaking softly. “Let’s call it a day.”

 

“Viktor, I don’t need you babying me! I’ll clean up and then we can-”

 

“No. Go home and rest, eat something, drink some water, we will try again tomorrow.”

 

Yuri just yells in frustration after Viktor had left, untying his skates and pelting them against his locker. 

 

_ “I will always love you, Yurochka. Even when you are mad.” _

 

_ “Grandpa, I am not mad!!” Yuri had come home after being picked on, throwing things around his room and yelling as many curses as a young 13 year old knew. Nikolai of course came to check it out, Yuri attempting to hold it together for his grandpa.  _

 

_ “Yura.” _

 

_ “Fine! I’m mad! I’m pissed off that those stupid kids would make fun of me! They called me a girl!” He grabbed his skates, lifting them over his head to throw them, but Nikolai had grabbed his wrist.  _

 

_ “Do not let it get to you.” He slowly knelt down. “They mean nothing if they are not there to support you.” _

 

Yuri sighs, hands in his hair, gripping tight.  _ Fuck this. _

 

He plucked his phone from his locker, opening up his phone to go through the contacts. He quickly located Otabek in his favorites, hitting the call button. He doesn’t really give a fuck if the other man is busy, he needs to talk to someone.  _ Doesn’t he always say ‘call when you need me’ anyways? Well, he needed him right now! _

 

It rang for entirely too long, but when Otabek did pick up, he was panting into the phone. Yuri would never get bored of that sound.  _ “Hey..! Long time, not talk. I was beginning to think you were too busy for me.” _ The soft laughter that followed caused a heat to rise to Yuri’s cheeks. 

 

“Whatever...are you at practice?”

 

_ “Yeah. My phone was hooked up to the music cord, I nearly shit my pants when Eye of the Tiger started blasting over my free skate song.”  _ And Yuri nearly shit his pants laughing.

 

“Sorry, guess I should have texted you first.”

 

_ “Obviously it was important enough not to. You alright, Yura?”  _ Otabek’s concern came through just fine on the phone, and honestly, Yuri hated seeing the saddened look on his face. 

 

“Yeah. Bad practice.”

 

There is a silent pause. “ _ Were you thinking about him?” _

 

“When am I not..?” Yuri rubs his face.

 

There was a slightly pause, followed by a sigh.  _ “Only a few more days until we fly out. What day are you leaving?” _

 

“Four days.”

 

_ “I’ll be there before you. We should share a room.” _

 

“Beka-”

 

“ _ What? It could be fun.”  _ Otabek laughs.  _ “But we wouldn’t get any sleep.” _

 

“Whatever.” Yuri rolls his eyes, standing up and walking around on sore feet. “How is your routine coming along? I remember you saying you were struggling with certain parts of it.” It was amazing how hard he didn’t have to try to sound like he cared. He loved talking to Otabek and listening to the different and interesting things or stories he had to share. Even a trip to a coffee shop sounded like a noble knight venturing into the unknowns on a grand quest. What was this warm feeling in his chest?

 

Yuri convinced himself years ago, that the only person in his life that he would ever love was his grandpa. No one else would ever fill that space in his heart. He grumbled, zoning out at some point in the conversation.

 

_ “The jumps are becoming easier with each day I practice them-” _

 

“Have you ever loved someone who wasn’t your family?” Yuri suddenly interjected.

 

There was a long pause, Otabek finally speaking, and Yuri could definitely hear the smile in his voice.  _ “Yeah. I guess I can say I have.” _ On the other end, Otabek was kind of playing with his hair, his breathing having calmed down five minutes ago, thank goodness. It was sort of embarrassing to be huffing into the phone like a pig.  _ “Have you?”  _ He smiles, nibbling on his bottom lip and playing with his tongue ring against his teeth. His coach ends up yelling at him for taking too long on his phone.  _ “Shit, Yura. I gotta go back and practice. Coach is giving me shit. I’ll talk to you tonight, I promise. Lo-...like around eight.” _ Good save.  _ “See ya!” _

 

“Bye Beka, udachi.” He smiles, hanging up the phone.  _ Man, dodged that question. What if I had said no? _

 

Yuri looks around, deciding to throw on a sweatshirt and just leave. He works on putting his shoes on, stuffing his phone into his pocket and quickly moving out of the locker room with his sleeves pulled down and around his hands. 

 

“I’m walking home.” He stomps out into view, glaring at Viktor. 

 

“ _ Home _ where?” That made Yuri pause, look down, then back up with a frown. He shrugs, heading toward the door. “If you wait and let me put shoes on, I’ll drive you.”

 

“I’m walking. I don’t want a fucking ride.” He walks a little faster toward the door, head low.

 

“Yurio!” Viktor grumbles as the boy rushes out, resting his hand on his forehead. “ _ Dammit. _ ” Why must he be so difficult? Viktor gets ready to go anyways. Yuuri was home and waiting for him, he had said he wanted to rest today. Viktor shoots him a text, sighing and hooking his gym bag up on his shoulder.

 

**Viktor** : hey, my little svinka <3 ^v^ I’m on my way home, see you soon Yuuuuri~

 

**Yuuri** : Hello, Viktor! Glad you are coming home early! Since you are, you wouldn’t mind picking up some milk, eggs, chocolate chips, and flour..oh! And sugar? I’m going to make you a little something sweet, tonight! :3

 

_ Is it you? _

 

Viktor was beginning to wish that his husband wasn’t so painfully pure and innocent. Sure, he had his sexy moments, but they still hadn’t really gotten past the adorably innocent Yuuri that is merely a soft shell to the true insides.

 

**Viktor** : yes of course, beautiful, is that all? I love you <3

 

He had absolutely no problem running errands for his husband. Especially since he was going through the torture of Yuri’s sly comments.

 

**Yuuri** : Yes! I love you too!

 

**Yuuri** : Wait! Also, we ran out of Makkachin-Food.

 

**Viktor** : Yuuri, you can call it normal dog food ^o^

 

**Yuuri** : Yeah yeah yeah, see you soon!!

 

Viktor smiles wide at his phone, loving how sweet and precious his dear husband was. He felt a deep sadness for anyone who wasn’t experiencing a beautiful love like the one he had for his Yuuri. He made his way to the store, buying the things that Yuuri had requesting, making sure to pick out some flowers for him. He probably bought flowers for Yuuri more than any husband in the world, but he loved seeing the way Yuuri’s face lit up with joy when he came home from a long day with a pale pink bouquet.

 

He slowly but surely got the door open, stepping inside with his groceries and flowers. “Oh Yuuuuri~! Where is my beautiful husband, hm?” He heard a soft yell from the kitchen which could only be one person. He switches out the dead flowers in the vase with the new large bouquet of pretty roses. “I brought you a surprise~...” 

 

Yuuri stands up from where he was checking the oven. “Oh! Those are so beautiful Viktor!” Yuuri smiles wide, hugging his husband close. “Thank you so much!” He giggles, pulling away and rummaging through the groceries. 

 

“You are covered in flour, what on earth is going on here?”

 

“I was trying to bake for you before you got home, but I ran out of ingredients in the middle.” Yuuri giggles again, dusting the flour off of his face. “Do you wanna help? I could use someone with strong arms to stir.” 

  
Viktor happily rolls up his sleeves as he places a soft peck on Yuuri’s lips. 


	9. Wanna Bet?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Otabek and Yuri finally reunite before the GPF, now to battle over who gets to pay for the food!

Yuri could not have run fast enough. As he came off of his plane, he spotted Otabek (who promised to meet him at the airport) and took off like a rocket, his own arms wide open as he threw himself right into those muscled arms. “Beka!!” Otabek quickly enveloped Yuri in a warm hug, nuzzling his face into that pretty blonde hair. 

 

“I missed you so much, Yura…”

 

“Shut up and hold me, dammit…” Yuri nuzzled into his chest, not really giving a shit about what went on around them. He didn’t care about Yakov calling for him, he didn’t care about Viktor telling him to get his luggage, and he certainly didn’t care about being sad anymore. This trip was going to be fun and special, and he was going to spend all of it with Otabek. 

 

It was finally time for the Grand Prix Final, and he was going to win gold for his grandfather. There was no other option this time. The only choice he had now was gold. Gold, or go home and stay there.  _ Home. Tch.  _

 

By the time they go to the baggage claim, Yuuri and Viktor had managed to wrangle in all of their luggage, both of them turning to look at Yuri. Viktor looked annoyed, but you would never truly be able to tell had you not known him for years. It was all in those beautiful blue eyes. Yuuri was smiling. He loved to travel and going to new places as he was with Viktor. Viktor, on the other hand, could do without all of the travel, preferring to stay in Russia or Japan. He liked those places, and that was about it. 

 

“We are due to check in in less than thirty minutes, Yurio.” Viktor smiled, but his eyes told it all.

 

“Yeah yeah, who cares? I’m gunna ride over there with Beka. So, bye.” Yuri huffed, bitterness lining his smile as well. Yuuri waves him off, making sure his things would get back to the hotel room.

 

“Did you decide on whether or not you would share a room with me?” Otabek smirked at the instant blush that appeared on Yuri’s cheeks, hell, even his ears.

 

“Yeah. And the answer is no.” Otabek looked defeated. “I don’t want you to smother me in my sleep when I win gold and you don’t.” He smirks, looking up to Otabek with a wink.

 

“Hey! I wouldn’t do it in such a boring way, sheesh.” They both laugh, suiting up for the motorcycle ride once they are outside. The ride to the hotel was silent, Yuri just holding onto Otabek, arms wrapped around his torso. Once they got there, they both walked in together, Otabek reaching down and taking Yuri’s much smaller hand. He hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should really be doing this. He still wasn’t certain on how Yuri actually felt about him. At the same time he felt Yuri stop walking as his stomach twisted, trying to jump ship through his throat. “What’s wrong? You don’t like me holding your hand?” He spat, too quick say something, instantly regretting it when he did.

 

“Huh?” Yuri looked up at him, frowning and looking a little bit angry. “What the hell are you talking about? I was just going to stop and ask you something!” He tore his hand from Otabek’s grasp. “If you’re going to act like a crazy bastard, hold your own hand!” Yuri walked toward the elevator, arms crossed over his chest.

 

“Wait!”  _ Dammit, way to go. _ “Yura, hold on, hold on, I just-” When he approached Yuri, he saw...sadness on his face? “Hey...I’m sorry I didn’t mean to act like that. I was just thinking about...like, maybe you didn’t like me or something, y’know?” He reached down, cupping his cheek and kissing his forehead. “Cmon. Let’s go get settled. What were you going to say?”

 

“Whatever.”

 

“I have a feeling that’s not it-”

 

“I was  _ going _ to ask if you wanted to call in some take-out and eat in my room with me.” He just stares, looking into Otabek’s soul with those beautiful green eyes.

 

“Yeah. That’d be fun.” He reached down, taking his hand once more and sighing. “Sorry for freaking out.” He smirks a bit at his own stupidity. “I thought you were going to tell me you didn’t want to hold my hand. Guess I got a little defensive.”

 

“Only a little?” Yuri laughed, pressing himself to Otabek once the elevator doors closed. “Mm...I missed your lips, Beka…” He looked up with that...that evil smile. “I think I forgot what they feel like.” As he leaned in for a kiss, there was a soft ding in the background and he found himself pressing his lips to Otabek’s hand instead. His eyes widened and he nearly growled in frustration, pulling away, but also being pushed by the huge palm on his face. “What the actual fu-”

 

“This isn’t our floor. Someone else is getting in.” Otabek’s eyebrows furrowed together, also in frustration. Yuri just huffs, relaxing against the elevator wall, somewhat close to Otabek.

 

“No way. You’re staying in this hotel too? Amazing.” Yuri stiffened at the sound of that voice. You could  _ taste _ the smirk coming from it, it was so thick in the air. “Guess I’ll get to see the beautiful Yuri-chan everyday, hm?”

 

“You’re kidding me, right?” Yuri groans, hands slapping over his face. “Please, oh mighty King JJ, royally fuck off.” 

 

“Oh come on, that’s no way to treat your elders, right?.”

 

“Speaking of which, why are you even here, Grandpa? I thought you retired?” Yuri smirked, crossing his arms.

 

“I did. There is a skater in the junior division that I’m coaching. He is very good.”

 

_ Dammit.  _ Yuri didn’t want a positive response. “Who cares? You’re still a loser. Apparently Isabella agrees.” Perfect. Hit him where it hurts.

 

JJ looks hurt for a moment, then shrugs. “I guess you’re right, girlscout. Glad we found our differences before we got married, though.” Okay, maybe that was a little harsh, but Yuri really hated this guy for some reason. He was so cocky, so arrogant. From a young age, his grandfather drilled in his head that it was pride that changed angels into devils and it was humility that makes men as angels.. 

 

Jean-Jacques pressed his floor button, relaxing against the elevator wall before looking over at Otabek. “Is this your new boyfriend, Yuri-chan?” 

 

While Yuri sputtered and searched for an answer, Otabek grinned. “Not yet.”

 

“Beka-!”

 

“Wow, Yuri, I didn’t know you were into mysterious bad-boys.” The two older men laughed quietly as Yuri was inexplicably tongue-tied. Once the door opened to Yuri’s floor, he pushed past JJ on his way out, leaving Otabek with him. Probably a bad idea in hindsight, but at this point he didn’t give a shit. 

 

“Oh right, ladies first, please.” JJ allows Yuri through, moving more to the side to let Otabek out as well. “See you at the final. Yurochka!!” He waves to him before the elevator doors close. 

 

“Yuri, you don’t even know the room number-”

 

“Why would you stand there and even associate with that dickass!” Yuri glared, nearly snarling like a wild dog at Otabek. “I thought you wanted this reunion to be a good one? You sure are making this difficult.”

 

“Yura, he means well. I don’t think he is trying to make you upset. You’re probably tired from your flight. I don’t like him either, but seeing how humbled he was at the GPF that one year...it kind of made me hate him less.”

 

“Whatever. He’s still a stupid jerk with a stupid voice and stupid hair.”

 

“Yuri. We have the same hair.”

 

Yuri paused, glancing up at Otabek’s hair.  _ Goddamn it, they do.  _ “Whatever!” He walks off, looking at all the room numbers. “Which one is it?” 

 

“Right there on your left, 422.” He walks up, smirking slightly. “I’m 423, so if you get lonely, just come and knock on my door, alright?”

 

“ _ God _ you are unbelievable, Otabek.” Yuri huffs, opening his door and heading in. Looks like Viktor and Yuuri already dropped off his stuff. For two old men, they moved fast. Yuri tossed his jacket onto the floor near his bed  as he went to lay down. He let out a soft groan as he sunk into the soft mattress. 

 

_ You’ll never win. _

 

Yuri’s eyes shot wide open at the sudden voice in his head. His brows furrowed together as he slowly sat up.  _ What the hell? _

 

“Are you okay?” Otabek walked over to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder before  sitting down beside him.

 

There was a moment of silence. “Do you think I have a good chance of winning, Otabek?”

 

After a moment’s pause, Otabek eased a hand onto Yuri’s back, leaning in to gently kiss at his neck. “Of course. You’re coming into this competition with the most heat. If I’m being honest with myself, there is no way I’m going to beat you.”

 

Yuri found himself frowning more than before, but it quickly melts away with any other bad feelings as he feels Otabek’s kisses trail up and down his neck. “We still need to order food...” The force behind his voice disappears entirely as he is pushed back on the bed.

 

“Can’t I just...y'know...love on you for awhile? We can get food later…” With that, Otabek was pushing Yuri’s shirt up and kissing wetly along his neck, moving his kisses closer and closer to his lips until their mouths met, Yuri unable to help the soft sigh that pushed past his lips, arms wrapping around Otabek’s shoulders. He let out a soft ‘mhm’ and closed his eyes. The way Otabek kissed him sent a shiver down his back, his throat tightening, burning with the need for oxygen. He was about to pull away and take a breath when Otabek suddenly began kissing back down his neck, now on his chest. Yuri hadn’t realized how much he wanted this to happen until it was already happening.

 

_ Not in a damn hotel room, you sleaze.  _ Shit. Brain-Yuri is right. “A-Ahh...Beka not...” Yuri brought his hands down, pushing his fingers into Otabek’s hair.  _ It’s so long...why does he have to be so sexy? _ Yuri groaned at the feeling of lips trailing down his abdomen. He felt Otabek’s weight leave the bed, the Kazakh man now on his knees in front of him.  _ Oh shit. Shit, wait. No no no. Not here, come on.  _

 

“Beka…” He glanced, seeing Otabek suddenly pop up with a goofy looking smile. 

 

“Yeah~?” Otabek leaned down, kissing over Yuri’s navel and sticking his tongue out to lick along his pale skin.

 

“I don’t know if...this is a good idea.”

 

“What? This?” Otabek smirked as he pressed his lips to Yuri’s skin once more, kissing along the beltline of his jeans. Yuri moaned of course, his back arching and allowing Otabek’s hand to sneak under it. He continued to place small kisses all along his stomach, unable to help himself from licking and nipping at his hip.

 

With a heavy sigh, Yuri finally found his voice again. “Y-Yeah. That. That would be exactly what I’m talking about, thank you.” He snapped, grumbling softly as he was nibbled on. 

 

Otabek grinned, sliding his hands up and down Yuri’s legs before just holding his hips, sucking more than a few hickies into his hips and other places on his torso. “Alright alright...well…” He kissed his way up, leaving little bruises and tooth marks everywhere he went with his mouth. “Are you sure…? You moan like you want to…”

 

“Well  _ of course _ I want to, but we can’t…” Yuri slowly sat up, groaning and finally pushing Otabek away. “Maybe after the banquet.”

 

Otabek quickly answered. “No way, you’ll be drunk.”

 

“Fuck. You’re right...mmm…” Yuri then grinned. “After dinner tonight, we can do whatever you want.”

 

“Are you positive?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“One hundred percent?”

 

“Ask one more time, and I’ll say no.” Yuri glared, then turned to his phone, pushing his shirt down. “What do you want? I’m paying this time.”

 

“Hell no, I’m paying.” Otabek reached for his own phone, knocking Yuri’s out of his hands.

 

“Otabek! Put your phone down!”

 

“I’m already calling! Shh!” Otabek laughed, scurrying across the room to hide from Yuri’s wrath. Sadly, he cornered himself, Yuri quickly pouncing on him as he knocked both of them to the ground. 

 

“I’m paying-!”

 

“Hello? Yes, I’d like-” Otabek couldn’t help but laugh aloud as his phone was smacked from his hand by an angry Russian. “Yuri- no! Give me that!” Yuri took the phone, running away with it and ordering as he was chased, eventually hiding under the bed as he gave his card number and hung up. “Get out here, fairyboy!” Yuri giggled evilly as he slid the phone out from under the bed, his own body soon coming out too.

 

“You really are impossible, Plisetsky.” Otabek grinned wickedly, pulling him up and attacking him with kisses. Yuri happily kissed back, tilting his head back just to make it harder for Otabek. “Mm...you’ll pay for that later.”

 

“Oh, I’m sure. Sad for you, I’m not scared. I am the Ice Tiger of Russia. You think you intimidate me oh mighty Hero of Kazakhstan?”

 

“I  _ know _ I do.”

 

“Bullshit, loser.”

 

“Wanna bet?”

 

“You’re on-!” Yuri found himself in the air before he could finish his sentence, yelling loudly as he was thrown onto the bed. He landed harshly, quickly pinned with his hands over his head. Okay. So maybe Otabek was stronger? And bigger. And had  _ way _ more muscle than him. As he glared into Otabek’s eyes, he realized this was a big mistake. Those deep chocolate brown eyes were staring deep into his own green ones, slowly narrowing and sending a chill down Yuri’s spine. As Otabek’s face got closer, Yuri felt the hair on his neck stand up, his eyes widening. 

 

“B-Beka..?” He tried to smile, hoping Otabek would too.

 

“Gotcha.” Otabek grinned, kissing him sweetly before standing up. “Told you.” 

 

“Whatever! We both know you wouldn’t even be able to kill a fly!”

 

“Bull. I have killed many spiders in my day.” This somewhat cocky comment had Yuri laughing and rolling his eyes, rolling over on the bed, half of his body hanging off. “What did you order anyways? I was too busy chasing your tail to listen to you.”

 

“I guess it’s a surprise then, hm?” Yuri tilted his head up just slightly to look at Otabek, watching the taller man as he walked over. This was going to be an interesting week full of firsts and lasts, kisses and laughs.

  
But Yuri was okay with that. For once he felt truly okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, you can give suggestions or let me know about embarrassing errors @kuridoodledoo on tumblr!


End file.
